Finding the Heart
by Life-is-Raspberry-Pie
Summary: Life in Forget-Me-Not Valley was supposed to be simple. But newcomer Jack is unprepared for what he is to find, as he, Celia, Muffy and Nami struggle to find the truth in their hearts--both within their souls and within their diaries.


**Hello! Welcome to the latest Raspberry-Pie story, this time written for Harvest Moon. Although I must warn you, THIS STORY CONTAINS STALKING/OBSESSION, (NON-GRAPHIC) SEX, AND SOME GENERAL OVERALL CREEPINESS. **

**So hopefully the caps got the message out. If you're trying to skip to the story already, go back and read it please! But otherwise…**

**Enjoy. :)**

**Finding the Heart**

* * *

**Chapter 1: A New Sunrise**

* * *

It was still dark when she woke. Celia stretched languidly, then extended her tanned, golden legs out until they reached the cold floor. Shivering, she replaced her worn nightgown with a rough green dress. Slipping on her shoes and running a brush through her long brown hair before pulling it back into a ponytail, she took a moment before her mirror to shake the sleep from her eyes.

A calloused finger touched the same, familiar plain face, slightly dismayed that her seventeen years hadn't brought her beauty. But her sparkling blue eyes sufficed to give her charm, and she turned away in satisfaction. It was an unusual ritual that she did not usually perform; but then, last night had certainly awakened her to the influence of beauty.

The scene was still fresh in her mind as she stepped down the staircase of her loft bedroom. She'd been sitting awkwardly upon a bar stool with her aunt's brother Marlin and his friend Rock; no one minded her age because in her small farming town anyone was allowed in the bar, because the bartender, Griffin, and his assistant Muffy easily knew who was underage and not allowed drinks. Rock and Marlin had been sipping their beers as she stared into space. It was only her boredom that allowed her to hear their whispered conversation.

"Damn, she's hot," Rock murmured, staring after Muffy as she poured punch for another customer. Celia barely saw Marlin lightly punch Rock out of the corner of her eye. Marlin's head nod was indicating her, and a blush rose to Celia's cheeks as she realized that Marlin was attempting to protect her from Rock's words. Was she so young, then, that she was not allowed to hear such talk? She'd gone to wait outside for them to finish, irritated.

Even now Celia felt embarrassed at the memory, but nonetheless pushed it out of her mind as she descended down the stairs. She winced at a small creak that seemed enormous in the stillness of the darkened world that was lit only by the dim bulb above the staircase. It seemed that no sane, no reasonable person would be up at this hour, and yet it was part of her regular routine.

But downstairs there was a stark contrast—Celia stepped down through the loft entrance and was blasted with light. Her aunt Vesta and Marlin were at the table with breakfast, and she sat down to join them in the quick meal before work began on the family farm. It was a daily routine that seldom, if ever, varied. Life in the coastal village of Forget-Me-Not Valley was simple and uneventful.

But today, with the golden tendrils of morning would come a new surprise.

* * *

Jack stood on the edge of his new farm feeling somewhat overwhelmed. A barn, chicken coop, fields and a pasture? He was supposed to take care of all of this? He was a city kid, and the most grueling work he'd ever done was open a book to study.

But then he'd had to drop out of college at the urgent and unexpected phone call from his father's best friend, Takakura. He had been gripped with horror, his hands shaking at the news: His father, whom he hadn't seen since his parents split up when he was eight years old, was dead. The farm that Jack had not seen in the eleven years since he'd left it needed to be taken care of, and with his father gone and Takakura too old to run it by himself, Jack had been the only choice.

As Jack stood before the pasture, a black haired-man in patched jeans and a worn out white shirt approached him, his equally worn features unintelligible. "Hello, Jack."

Jack nodded to him, mustering up enthusiasm he did not feel. "Hey Tak! Long time no see." It was true—aside from the dreaded phone call, all Jack had of Takakura was hazy, long-ago memories.

Takakura provided him with a rare smile. "You've grown, Jack."

The corner of Jack's mouth turned up. "Yes, but this farm hasn't." He flicked a wrist to indicate the several acres of land upon which they stood.

Takakura chuckled. "True, but do you remember how it's run?"

Jack sighed, finally revealing his qualms about the task he had somehow undertaken. "Somewhat," he said, "but I was a child when I last saw it… Refresh me?"

Takakura nodded. They began a tour of the farm, and even Jack could discern a sense of abandonment about the place: rotting fences, peeling paint and multiple weeds proved that the farm had been allowed to fall into a state of disrepair. It would need a lot of work… and it would take a lot of his time.

But Takakura soon reassured him that he'd have plenty of time later to begin work on the farm. With Takakura's effort, the cow, horse and chickens had been fed, the cow milked and the eggs collected for today. And so, "Feel free to rest," Takakura urged. "You've had a long journey—I'll finish up with the farm today."

Jack knew that all too well, for he had traveled miles to reach his childhood residence. For now, he could relax. But even as Takakura walked away with a nod of farewell, Jack felt restless. He wasn't exhausted from his long trip into the city, but instead keen to see the town and the people he'd live with for at least the next few years. The sun still high in the sky, he headed toward the edge of his property where the town of his future lay in wait.

* * *

Celia stumbled down the path, biting her lip to keep from sighing for the twentieth time. Her arms were aching, and she seriously regretted volunteering for the delivery job. The edges of the crate were digging into her arms, the wooden box heavy and cumbersome with its contents. Why couldn't she have grown up on a technologically advanced farm? Then maybe they'd at least have trucks… And she wouldn't be stumbling toward the bar to make her delivery as her arms threatened to give out on her.

The crate was so large that she could barely see over it, and it came as a surprise to her when she glimpsed a man of about nineteen or twenty making his way aimlessly toward her. She looked at the approaching unfamiliar face, trying to comprehend who he was, when her foot hit a rut in the dirt. Stumbling forward, she almost plowed into him.

Oh, no. No, no, no. She was going to drop the crate, filled with valuable fruit. "Please, take it!" she gasped as she staggered, forcing the crate into the boy's hands before she ended up dropping several hundred gold worth of produce.

"What?' he questioned uncertainly, his mouth slack as he held the box and gaped dumbly at her.

"Sorry," she breathed, having caught her balance. "So sorry." Celia struggled to catch her breath. "You can… you can put it down if you want. Please try not to bruise the fruit though."

He didn't put it down. "About that," he said quizzically, "Why am I holding a crate of fruit?"

"Because it was too heavy for me," Celia panted, almost regaining her breath.

He gave her a droll look. "And why were _you _holding a crate of fruit?"

Celia composed herself. "I was trying to deliver it to the bar, but I, uh, didn't actually get there… Here, do you want me to take that?" She indicated the crate.

"Nah," he shook his head. "I can carry it if you want."

"Oh." Celia said, surprised. "All right… thank you!" She smiled at him, as if truly seeing him for the first time. "And I really am sorry about that, um…"

"Jack," he told her. "And it's fine," he assured. "Tell you what—let's make a trade. Since I'm carrying the crate, would you lead me to the bar? I've been trying to go into town, but…"

"Lost?" He'd been walking away from the direction of the town.

"Yeah," he admitted with a laugh. "So let's go before this crate starts feeling heavy!"

She nodded as they started toward the center of the village. "So you're new to Forget-Me-Not Valley, then?" Celia assumed.

Jack nodded from over the crate. "Yep, just moved in. My father used to own Sunset Farm, but I guess it's mine now…"

"Oh," Celia understood the reference to his father's death. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"You knew him?" Jack enquired, attentive.

Celia nodded. "Yes, actually. In this town you know everybody. He didn't come out too much, but he was always friendly, at least… I did his deliveries, though." She blushed, most likely embarrassed by her lack of talking about much but making deliveries. (But then, who was to blame, with her dramatic introduction?)

"So you live here."

"Yes, on a farm a little ways back, with my aunt Vest and her brother Marlin. Once you get to the stream you see it."

"Oh, then we must've known each other as little kids."

Celia perked at that. "You lived here?"

Jack nodded, his feet shuffling on the dirt path as he struggled to readjust the crate that was, indeed, becoming quite heavy. "For eight years. But then my mom and I moved, and I'm just returning today for the first time." He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture. "I don't actually know how well I'll do at this whole farming thing."

She laughed reassuringly. "You'll be fine," she said positively. "It's not difficult mostly, just a lot of work."

Jack groaned half-heartedly. "So I've been told." The continued on in a sort of silence, and yet it was not awkward—it was the sort of silence that felt peaceful and comfortable, despite a lack of conversation.

Yet after another minute, Celia broke the hush. She laughed nervously. "I feel awkward, with you doing all the work and my just watching," she told him.

"Nah, it's fine," Jack assured, though in truth he felt as if red-hot irons were stabbing his strained shoulders. "I have to get used to this kind of work anyway."

Celia raised an eyebrow. "So you're staying?"

"Yeah, at least for a year or so, until I can find someone to work the farm for me." The bar had better be close…

Celia seemed pleased. "Well then I guess we'll see each other around." She smiled up at him shyly.

He smiled back. "I guess we will."

The path suddenly converged into a large network of dirt paths, the sun spilling light across the many directions. "Oh! Here we are—town. Almost there."

"What's that building?"

Celia raised a finger and pointed toward a large, rustic two-story building with a balcony and two side yards surrounded by wooden fencing. "That?" When Jack nodded, she continued. "There's the inn, and the bar's right behind it."

"Great," Jack grinned. He _really_ needed to put the crate down. He never knew being macho could be so difficult, as it inherently was.

As they neared the bar (as was indicated by a large "BAR" sign swinging in a gentle breeze beside the small structure), the dirt path gave way to an intricate cobblestone street.

"Thanks for the escort." Jack told her gratefully as they stopped outside the door.

Celia reached for the crate and he gratefully gave it to her, her arms dipping for a moment before she conquered the weight. "No problem." She gave him another of her small smiles. "See you around?"

He returned the gesture. "Absolutely."

She disappeared into the bar, the door clattering closed behind her. Jack followed.

The inside of the bar was murky and dim, a long counter extending across the room. Celia was gone, appearing to have gone into a door presumably leading to a back room. Two men sat drinking and exchanging conversation at the very end of the bar, a blonde, her back turned from Jack, attending to them from behind the counter. Unnoticed, Jack took a seat in the middle of the bar and waited. Fortunately, his wait was brief.

"Hey there," a voice purred. "Can I get you anything?"

Jack looked in surprise at the woman, most likely in her early twenties, standing on the opposite side of the counter. Her thick, golden hair curled gracefully around her shoulders, held up by a black headband. She wore a low-cut short red dress that went to mid-thigh, edged with black lace and topped with a small white sweater. Damn.

"You want anything?" She repeated.

"Oh, um, yeah," he said, quickly regaining composure. "Just a beer."

The girl turned away for a moment, and with swift expertise, plucked a glass from the shelf and filled it with the frothy brown drink. The glass plunked down on the table before Jack, and he looked up at her, his hand curling around the handle of the glass as the girl leaned forward over the counter. She gave him a flirty smile, her lips red and adorable. "So are you new here?" she asked. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Yeah, actually I am." He told her, surprised as he lifted the frothy cup to his mouth. "Am I the only non-regular here?"

The girl laughed. "Actually, yes. Since Forget-Me-Not valley's so small, pretty much anyone who lives here is considered a regular. Besides, I think I'd remember you otherwise."

The corner of Jack's mouth turned up at the flirty comment, but then he winced. "Is this town really that small?"

"Yep." Muffy nodded. "Is that good or bad?"

"Hmm." Jack mulled that over with another sip. "I don't know, actually. I'm from the city, so it's just… different. I don't know whether I like it or not yet."

"Really? I'm from the city too! I—" But then a man called for her, a yellow leather jacket slung over his shirt, his brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a mustache adorning his lip. Muffy flashed Jack another smile. "Gotta go," she told him, "but why don't you get back to me on that some time?"

Jack grinned unwittingly. "Yeah," he said. "I'll do that." He lifted the cup to his lips and watched her saunter away on her black high heels. He knew one thing, at least—he'd be coming to the bar quite a bit.

* * *

"Yeah?" Muffy strode up to Griffin and he jerked a thumb toward the back room.

"Celia brought in this week's fruit," he informed her gruffly. "I need you to help her unpack 'em." Without waiting for a response, Griffin turned away to help another customer, leaving Muffy to her job.

Muffy cast one glance back at the boy—she hadn't gotten his name, unfortunately—before making her way through the door to the back. She entered the room, its walls lined with too much furniture in too little space. Griffin's bed rested against the opposite wall, a chair propped against the footboard, a table before it, and a ladder to the loft resting against the adjacent wall. Stepping out onto a cozy rug, Muffy made her way to the able where Celia had already pried open the crate top to reveal the fruit.

"Hey girl! How ya doing?" Muffy asked, bubbly from her encounter with the bachelor currently sitting on the bar stool in the next room.

"Good," Celia said. "You?"

"Totally great." Muffy replied, making her way to stand beside Celia. She picked up a pear, its skin firm and unbruised. "Ooh, looks like a pretty little shipment this week." She placed the pear in one of the bins set upon the bed, a wilting label proclaiming its content of pears. "The farm running well lately?"

"Yes," Celia nodded, picking up both a pear and apple to speed up the job.

"Oh, well that's good!" Muffy enthused.

There was a silence, this time awkward. Celia never did have much to say to Muffy, though it didn't seem to matter much to the incessantly vivacious girl, who pretended as if the silence was completely natural. Celia, however, was glad when the uncomfortable quiet ended, the fruit sorted.

Together, the two girls lifted the bins, lightened in their distribution. They lugged them to the main room of the bar, where they were placed on shelves, ready for use in drinks.

"How much this week?" Muffy inquired as the two girls stood before the register, on the far side of the bar from Griffin and the customers. Celia gave her the number, and Muffy counted the gold before handing it to Celia, who placed it in a pocket of her plaid apron. "Mm, not bad," she said. "Price of seeds going down?"

"Yeah," Celia said. "A bit. It's helping the farm."

"Good," Muffy smiled. "So does that mean, um…" she paused, trailing off.

"Hm?" Celia questioned.

"Will, um," Muffy paused. "Will the wedding be soon?"

Celia sighed. "Yeah, I'm marrying Kai in almost a year."

Muffy mistook the sigh for wistfulness, assuming Celia was looking forward to being married. "Well that's exciting! Will he be moving to Forget-Me-Not Valley, or will you be staying with him?"

"I'll be moving to his apartment," Celia affirmed. "He used to live in the country when we were kids, but he's in the city now, so I haven't seen him as much as I'd like. But yes, I'm moving away after the wedding."

Muffy leaned in confidentially. "_Is he cute_?" she asked, as if the question were of great importance.

Celia verified her question. "Yeah," she said, "and you can see for yourself when he visits next week!"

"Lucky!" Muffy giggled. "Hey, I'll have to rate him."

Celia appeared puzzled. "Rate him?"

Muffy grinned, and Celia felt surprise course through her as she realized that she and Muffy were actually having a decent heart-to-heart. Muffy seemed oblivious, however, continuing. "I have this thing where if I think a guy's cute, I give rank him on a heart meter." She winked at Celia. "See that guy over there?" She indicated someone at the far end of the bar.

Celia looked in surprise and found her gaze upon Jack. "Yeah?" she asked.

"He's one red star. Cute _and _available, far as I know!"

"Oh." Celia said flatly, keeping her response to a minimum, her brain on shutdown. How was she supposed to respond to that? Her mind whirling, she could think of only one answer. "Well I've got to go, but I'll see you next week?" she hesitated.

"All right, see ya babe!" Muffy waved cheerfully.

Celia forced a smile and walked out the door.

* * *

As Celia made her way back to Vesta's farm, a feeling of dejection began to creep into her. If Muffy had her eye on someone of the male gender, there was no way he could evade her grasp. What was the point of trying, or even hoping? Muffy would probably have him in a week.

Celia sighed, tired of Muffy's excuses. Muffy had always told her that she didn't want to be a barmaid all her life, but then, Celia wasn't exactly looking forward to a life spent with Kai, either. Unlike Muffy, Celia didn't have years to marry—she needed a husband _now_. Because if she didn't find a suitable match…

No. She couldn't even think of that. There was absolutely no way she would let Vesta have her way and control whom Celia would marry. If only she could find a prospective husband soon, she'd be free of Vesta's unfortunate choice and able to marry a man she chose out of love, not obligation. She could be free of Kai, the man who was a stranger to her, but whom she would allow no one to know she was marrying out of forced duty. As far as the inhabitants of this town knew, besides Vesta and Marlin, Celia was choosing to marry him by her own preference.

Jack, though, was an entirely different story. Celia's feet scuffed the dirt as she considered him. He was cute, wasn't he? And he had a farm of his own. Not to mention they'd conducted a decent conversation, one that gave her a feeling of hope blossoming in her chest. Perhaps…

But she couldn't get ahead of herself. For the moment, Celia still had Muffy to contest with. Nonetheless, a small smile touched her gentle lips as she thought of him. Approaching the farm, he was vivid once more in her mind, a promise of hope.

Celia started up the stairs to her room, where she pulled her diary from the nightstand drawer and carefully and precisely drew a single red heart. It shone luminous from the page before she gently closed the book and placed it back in her nightstand drawer. Within those pages, her secret would remain.


End file.
